


A Very Pregnant Pause

by Shippershape



Series: Bellarke Brought to You by Tumblr [9]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M, Pregnancy, one-night stand
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-22
Updated: 2014-12-22
Packaged: 2018-03-02 19:57:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2824244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shippershape/pseuds/Shippershape
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clarke is avoiding Bellamy, and it's making him paranoid. It's been a few years since the dropship landed, and a few months since they slept together. He's not so sure it was a mistake, but when they agreed to never speak of it again, he hadn't thought that meant they would never speak at all. Does she regret their night together, or is something else going on?</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Very Pregnant Pause

Bellamy was worried. It had been two months since “it”, since that one time, total mistake, let’s never speak of it again incident. They’d agreed, the morning after, since neither of them could remember much, that it was best to pretend it never happened. But when they’d said they weren’t going to talk about it, Bellamy hadn’t thought that meant they would never talk again. And although things had gone okay for the first couple of weeks, that was what it was beginning to look like.

It had been a mistake, a drunken one. Secretly Bellamy had wondered how many “incidents” like theirs Monty had been responsible for over the past few years, but really, people shouldn’t drink so much. He shouldn’t have drank so much. But the night had been perfect and it was the anniversary of their victory against Mount Weather two years ago and the moonshine had been flowing. They weren’t at war anymore. He remembered that feeling, that exhale when he realized he could take a minute to himself. No one was dying, no one was missing. They had lost a few, inevitably, in the war, but that was an old ache in his chest, one he’d learned to live with. He felt free. So he drank a little, and then he drank a little more. And if he couldn’t remember most of that night he did remember the way Clarke’s hair had looked in the firelight and how that first touch had set his whole body alight. When she’d called it a mistake, he’d agreed. But he regretted not remembering, wished more than anything that he could have that night for himself, even it was never going to happen again. 

It wasn’t how they were, he and Clarke. They were partners, just not that kind of partners, and no matter how many accusations were made and rumors were started it just wasn’t like that between them. 

The problem was that now it wasn’t like anything at all between them, and he was beginning to worry. She hadn’t said more than two words to him in the past month, and she looked away when he tried to catch her eye. Bellamy wasn’t good at talking about his feelings. So they stayed, bottled up and repressed like a little ball of fear and misery in the center of his chest. He missed her, missed her so much it hurt him just to look at her. Just as he thought it, she walked by. Without thinking, he grabbed her by the arm.

"Wh-" Her head snapped around, staring at him. "Bellamy? What do you want?" She didn’t sound irritated, she just sounded tired. Actually she’d been looking exhausted for the past few weeks. He frowned.

"I just want to talk to you. Is that not allowed anymore?" He hadn’t meant to come off so flippant, but he was really tired of this whole situation. He wanted… well he wanted a lot of things he couldn’t have. But he would settle for things between the two of them getting back to normal. Clarke looked startled.

"I don’t-I’ve just been busy I guess. Sorry." She didn’t look sorry. He frowned. She was acting even weirder than normal, if that was possible. He studied the bags under her eyes, something cold and dark pressing at the back of his mind.

"What’s wrong with you?" He asked. Because there was something, he was sure of it now, he could see it in her eyes. She just glared at him, that fire returning, and it eased his worry a little.

"What’s wrong with  _you_?” She muttered. “Just go around grabbing people and insulting them why don’t you.” She didn’t pull her arm away, though. He noticed that.

"Are you sick?" He insisted, ignoring the daggers currently shooting from her eyes. He could take Clarke, he wasn’t afraid of her. But he was little afraid of that feeling in the back of his head, the one that was insisting something was wrong. 

"No." She said, sighed. "I’m fine, Bellamy."

"Why are you avoiding me?" He asked, suddenly bold. This had gone on long enough. He didn’t believe that there wasn’t something wrong. She used to tell him everything, and even the things she kept secret he’d known. He could always read her. Now he had not clue what was going on with her. It was maddening.

"I’m not." She said, but she didn’t look at him.

"Bullshit." He deadpanned. She glanced up at that.

"Bellamy." She said softly, and her whole face changed, that mask of indifference was gone, the anger was gone, and all that remained was a soft kind of sadness. It scared him more than anything he’d ever seen. His grip around her arm tightened, just a little.

"What." It wasn’t a question, it was a demand. She would tell him. "Clarke." He warned. He really couldn’t take much more than this. That voice in the back of his head was talking, screaming, it was telling him the worst thing, the very worst thing.  _She’s dying_. He thought.  _She’s the only thing I really need on this godforsaken planet and she’s dying._  He tried to remember how to breathe. _  
_

"I’m-" She glanced around. He wanted to shake her.

"Clarke!" He warned again, this time louder.

"I’m pregnant." She said. Now she was looking at him, really looking at him for the first time in weeks and all he could do was stare back. The voice in the back of his mind quieted, and it was replaced by the roar of blood in his ears. Pregnant. She was…

"Pregnant?" He asked. Clarke nodded, slowly. Her eyes were still trained on him, like he might take off running at any moment. "You’re… So. You’re not sick?" He wondered aloud, one more time. She shook her head.

"I mean, morning sickness. But no. Aside from the fact that I’m having a baby, I’m completely healthy." She raised one arm, slowly, and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Bellamy, are you okay?" He realized he was still staring at her blankly.

"You’re having a baby." He said. She sighed.

"Yeah. That’s usually what pregnant means." 

"You and…" He trailed off. Was she saying what he thought she was?

"You." She said firmly. Didn’t look offended. 

"You and me. We’re having a baby." Suddenly something clicked into place. "Is this why you’ve been avoiding me?" Looking relieved that he’d finally said something other than repeating her, Clarke nodded.

"I didn’t really know what to say. We got drunk and hooked up one time, now we’re having a baby." She looked sad. "I didn’t want this to ruin your life. It’s not like I was trying to trap you. I can do it by myself." She suddenly looked more like herself, determined and assured. Bellamy wanted to scream.

"Okay, first of all, you’re not doing this by yourself." He told her, his voice low, almost a growl. She looked shocked at how angry he was. "I will be there every day, every step, you’re not doing one piece of this alone. And don’t walk around here feeling sorry for ruining my life. Maybe I should have told you this before, maybe this is more inappropriate than ever, I don’t know and I don’t care. But  _you_ are my life. Clarke. You.” She gaped up at him.

"Bellamy-"

"Shut up. I love you, and I’ve loved you since the very first day your tiny blonde head followed me around camp telling me what to do. You’re bossy and angry and apparently a little bit stupid if you thought I wouldn’t want this baby. But I love you. And I’ll love our baby. And you aren’t allowed to just disappear on me for a month and not tell me that you’re pregnant. You don’t get to do stuff like that, Clarke. Do you hear me?" He’d worked himself up into a pretty good rant, and people around them were starting to stare. Clarke was looking up at him with watery eyes. Shit. He didn’t mean to make her cry. "Shit. Clarke-" 

He didn’t get a chance to respond. She dug her hand into his shoulder, tugging him down so she could press her lips to his. He responded automatically, wrapping his arms around her so enthusiastically it lifted her right off the ground. She made a noise of content, and he resisted the urge to throw her over his shoulder and carry her back to his tent. Instead, with great reluctance, he set her down. When he pulled away he tried not to be distracted by the look in her eyes. It was exactly the look she’d been wearing that night, the one that had gotten them into this situation. 

"Clarke we’ve got to talk." She nodded, leaned forward and pressed a kiss into he crook of his neck. "I’m serious." She just hummed and continued trailing her lips up his neck until she reached a particularly sensitive spot under his ear. He shivered. "I guess we could talk later." Her only response was nibbling his earlobe. "Screw it." Giving in, he flung her over his shoulder, doing exactly what he’d been fantasizing of a few seconds earlier. She laughed, that perfect, raspy song of a laugh, and he couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face.

"You love me." She whispered in his ear, as he carried her back to his tent. He sighed.

"Yeah, I do. We still have to talk later." She pressed a kiss to his back from her position over his shoulder.

"We’ve got all the time in the world."


End file.
